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On hooking up with fat/ugly girls: 

“I have a strategy.  I close my eyes and picture someone hot.” – Yums

After receiving a court summons for having an “open container” and subsequently calling out of work to nurse my hangover in bed, I knew it was going to be a crazy weekend.

My friends from Brazil came to visit New York.  Usually people come to this city to see the lights, sights, and sounds.  They came with one mission in mind; to obtain one entity too exquisite to be measured.


Our best bet was to go straight to the source; the club.

The first night we went to Hiro.  To prepare for this event we loosened ourselves up with too many shots of Grey Goose.  I ended up yakking before heading out. (In the defense of my manhood, I was already full from dinner.)

I have not been clubbing in what feels like years, but it was still the typical scene as I expected.  When we arrived we stood on a line that rivaled the DMV.  In an attempt to hasten our entrance, my friend [Balls-to-the-wall] offered to pay the bouncer 30 bucks for early admission.  The bouncer turned out to be a greedy mofo and scoffed at his offering.  After we coughed up 20 more dollars, he happily let us through with a pleasant but fake smile plastered to his face.

He was a douche, but we focused on the bigger picture.  Getting in and getting laid.

Once we stepped into the land of opportunity, it was on.  We each spread out in search of forbidden fruit.

Balls-to-the-wall was especially drunk, as he must have downed at least 10 shots prior to my arrival to pregame with them.  Therefore, I decided he was the best person to follow around and wingman.  Unfortunately he was so drunk that everytime he attempted to talk, he sounded like the love child of Ozzy Osbourne and Donkey Kong.

Unhindered by something as little as verbal communication, he resorted to “caveman tactics.”  “Ooga Booga..” [physically picks girl up]  “Back to cave.

Upon employing this strategy, I had to hold my sides from the splitting pain caused by my laughter.  One instance, I saw a victim turn to her friend and give her the “holy shit for the love of god HELP” look.  I drew a blank.  I never wingman’d someone in this situation before.  Even in hindsight I still don’t know what I could have said.  Maybe something like:

“Hey um…don’t worry about your friend.  See those signs of struggle?  Yea just go ahead and ignore that.  That’s just her way of showing affection.”

To his credit though, Balls-to-the-wall managed to hook up with a girl who responded positively to his method.  Perseverance pays off I guess.

At the end of the night, I was drunk and tired.  For some reason, the Brazilians were able to convince me that this was the perfect reason to go to Korea town a.k.a. K-town.  Upon arrival, the first thing the Brazilians wanted to do was pick up girls and sing karaoke.  After several failed attempts of ambushing girls out on the street, we headed into a random karaoke bar on the third floor.

After we stepped out of the elevator, thinking it was a brothel, Balls-to-the-walls asked the host, “Do you guys have sex?”

The host, who seemed to have limited English skills and thus questioned his own ability to understand, responded with a proper, “Um excuse?”

Balls-to-the-walls, promptly answered back with “Sex.” To garner a higher level of understanding, he illustrated his point by shaking an imaginary can of soda followed by an explosion complete with sound effects and hand motions.

Ah the beauty of sign language.

The hosts face started to turn red as we saw his sheepish grin fade into a stern look.


He hastily shoved us back into the elevator and resumed his hosting duties for other customers.

When we got back outside, it was light out and my eyes hurt from having to adjust.  I quickly took a cab home to recover for the next night of insanity.



  1. hahaha… you should check out Hudson Terrace. You’d love that place.

  2. Ill be sure to check it out.

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